


Hutch, I Am Your Father

by rosa_himmelblau



Category: Starsky & Hutch, Wiseguy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 06:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau
Summary: AfterA View to a Kill





	Hutch, I Am Your Father

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A View to a Kill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719669) by [rosa_himmelblau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosa_himmelblau/pseuds/rosa_himmelblau). 

> _A View to a Kill_ was very popular, and I ended up writing a facetious sequel.
> 
> The story Starsky talks about is real, though I never read it. It's why I wrote this. *g*.

Starsky was sitting on the sofa, looking at his silent partner, who was slumped in a chair, his hands covering his face. "**What** happened?" he asked again. His partner's confused, anguished call had had Starsky at his apartment in an unbelievable few seconds; Starsky had been afraid that maybe someone had broken in and injected Hutch with some kind of slow-acting poison.

"Gun-mur muh fah-hur," Hutch repeated, and Starsky was almost positive that those were not real words, except for the 'gun' part. 

"Did Flamingo do something?" Hutch shook his head. "Is it that story of Mer's—"

"I told you never to mention that story!" Hutch yelled, his hands away from his face anyway. "I never want to hear you mention that story again, and I don't want you to read it! SHE IS INSANE!!"

"All right, all right," Starsky tried to sooth him. "But this isn't about that. Right?"

Abruptly, Hutch stood up. "I shouldn't have called you. Why don't you just go home?" And he walked out to the greenhouse.

Starsky followed him. "Hutch. C'm'on. I'm your partner, I'm your best friend, you can't keep secrets from me. Just tell me what the—who broke the window?" he interrupted himself to ask. Hutch just glared at him.

"I'm replacing it this afternoon," Hutch replied coldly.

"Oh. Well, good. Now, about that call—"

"Starsk, will you just let it go? I was upset over nothing—"

"Except you're still upset, so it's not nothing. C'm'on, tell me."

Hutch turned away from him, picking up one of the spindly little plants he was trying to keep from dying. After a minute, Starsky left him there, went into the kitchen to forage for something to eat. He'd been about to have a grilled cheese sandwich when the phone had interrupted him. In the refrigerator he found some kind of little chocolate dessert things, something he'd never seen before.

"Hey, Hutch, what're these?"

"What are what?" Hutch asked, not leaving the greenhouse.

"These little chocolate dessert things in the 'fridge. Where'd you get 'em?"

Hutch was there almost immediately, still holding the potted plant. "Put those back." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made Starsky not want to argue with him.

"OK. You got anything else here I can eat? I had to leave my lunch 'cause I thought you were dying or something."

"Have a peanutbutter sandwich." He took the plate from Starsky's hand, started to put it back in the refrigerator, then changed his mind and took it with him back to the greenhouse. Something very strange was going on with his partner, no question about that. Starsky knew he couldn't force the information out of him, but maybe he could wear it out, just by hanging around. So he made himself the peanutbutter sandwich, then went to sit on the sofa to eat it.

He looked around for something to read, and found what he hoped was a flyer for a new restaurant, as he was getting tired of the same old take-out places. But it wasn't for a restaurant, it was for a new zine. A new slash zine. Hey, that could be even better.

There was an excerpt from the zine, a novel, and Starsky read it as he ate his sandwich. Fortunately he ate fast, and had finished before he got to the final paragraph from the novel, the one that ended with Hutch saying, "James Gunther is my father." "Gun-mur muh fah-hur," is what "Gunther's my father" would sound very much like if a person was saying it through his hands. Or maybe if he didn't have lips. This was what Hutch was so upset about! Now it all made sense! Somebody had written a story where—

"It's not true," Hutch said coldly, right behind Starsky. He was still holding the plate.

"Of course it's not true! I've met your father." Starsky thought of reaching for one of the little chocolate things, but decided not to. Instead he started checking his pockets for a Hershey bar.

"Starsk—you have to go home now. There's something I need to do."

"Can't I help you?" Starsky asked. He was worried about his partner.

"No, I don't need **your** help for this." Hutch shook his head. "It's all right. I'll call you in the morning. Everything will be fine by then. Everything will be taken care of."

Starsky kept replaying those words in his head as he walked down the stairs to the lobby, and out onto the street. He barely noticed the black limousine parked in front of the building, and he didn't see the man who emerged from it at all.


End file.
